


A Little Brotherly Concern

by neil4god



Series: Brotherhood [1]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BAMF Stiles, Brotherly Love, Buffy references, Dean/Crowley bromance, Demon Dean, Hurt Stiles, Hurting Dean, Oblivious Dean, Oblivious Sam, Oneshot, POV Sam, Papa Argent is scared of the big bad Winchesters, Post 9x17 Supernatural, Post S3b Teen Wolf, Protective Dean, Protective Stiles, Scott knows everything, Stiles Is A Winchester, Stiles is a Little Shit, cannon complaint(ish) - ie this takes place just before the last episode of SPN s9, no smut!, poor isaac, possible spoilers -only barely though., skype sessions, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-08-12
Packaged: 2018-01-17 14:02:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neil4god/pseuds/neil4god
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has had a lot on his plate lately, what with the nogitsune and Allison so it's not entirely surprising that he missed his check in, having his brother land on Derek's doorstep armed for bear however is. That's were things got complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This has been bouncing around in my brain for about a week or so, I blame it entirely on a Supernatural Teen Wolf overload.

  
They were in Derek’s loft, the whole pack and Chris Argent, going over exactly what Kate said to Derek when Scott raced to the window shouting “Dude your brother is here and he looks pissed”  
That was so not something he was willing to deal with right now! He was still holding himself together with duct tape and trying desperately not to fall apart after the nogitsune. He couldn’t handle Dean on top of that. “What? No way, this is bad Scotty this is so bad!”  
Scott stayed by the window glaring down at the Impala while Stiles paced and tried to think of something to explain everything away. He ignored Lydia completely when she said “I have known you since I was two years old Stiles, you don’t have a brother.”  
He paced up and down the loft only pausing when Scott told him “There’s someone else with him, separate cars though they’re arguing. He followed Dean.”  
“Great so now he’s doubly pissed. Man he is so gonna kill me!”  
He was dead, Dean was going to take one look at him and then kick his ass for hiding things from him. Before he could work himself into too much of a panic Derek wrapped an arm around his shoulder holding him tight and speaking low “Just calm down Stiles, they’ll be here any minute and whatever it is we’ll deal with it together as a pack.”  
That was kind of sweet actually but it didn’t change anything.

He closed his eyes when he heard the scrape of the loft door opening, breathing deep next to Derek, praying Dean didn’t figure it out. By the time he opened them again Dean had taken in everyone in the room, done a quick double take at Argent and whipped out his semi. This was not going to go well. His deep voice echoed across the loft sending shivers down Stiles’ spine, because sure Dean was going to kill him but it was still nice to see him. “Stiles get your ass away from them now!”  
The tall stranger with him had two guns out and was clocking all the exits. This was not how he intended to introduce Derek to his brother. “Scotty you too, step away from Hale.”  
And things just got worse. “You know who he is?”  
“Please Stiles I’m not stupid, kid looks just like his mom. Now move it!”  
He took two steps forward placing himself between Derek and Dean, ruining his brother’s clear shot. “Things have been kind of complicated around here Dean. Derek and well everyone here, they’re my friends.”  
“Your friends? Stiles they’re fricking werewolves and god knows what the girls are and look at you kid, you look like shit. And where the fuck is your gun huh? You’re in a room filled with supernatural creatures and you’re not even armed!? You know better than that Stiles. I taught you better than that!”  
Dean was kind of freaking out and if he hadn’t been aiming a gun at his friends Stiles would have thought it was sweet. “Can we do this without the guns please? I promise no-one’s going to hurt you and I could really do with a hug.”  
He watched Dean carefully assess the room, his eyes lingering on Derek and Chris before they softened and he put away the gun. Stiles was in his arms seconds later, breathing in the familiar scent of gunpowder and Dean. He let out a shuddered breath, holding back a sob, hiding his face in his brother’s shoulder. Dean muttered “oh crap” against his ear and held him tighter and that was exactly what Stiles needed. It made him feel safe in the first time since forever. He was going to be okay. 

The tall stranger with the too long hair and deep set scowl broke them up with a low cough and two louder ones. That feeling of safety that he had in Dean’s arms, it was still there when they broke apart. He had been afraid it would dissipate, but he felt good, whole almost. “I guess I should probably do introductions and explanations and stuff right?”  
“Start with the explanation first. I want to know how the hell you got mixed up in all of this.”  
This wasn’t really something he wanted to talk about, especially not here so he broke it down into its component parts and hoped Dean didn’t ask too many questions. “Well that’s a really long story, things have kinda’ gone to shit around here. Not like your levels of awful, but we’ve had homicidal werewolves, insane hunters, vengeance hungry darachs, killer kanimas, alpha packs and nogitsune’s so yeah, it’s been a tough year.” As he mentioned each creature his brother twitched a little, his shoulders hunching in. When he spoke Stiles could hear the anger and underlying fear in his clipped words “That’s why you missed your check in.” He didn’t want Dean to beat himself up over this, none of it had been his fault, so he played it off laughing too loud “Bad things Dean, all really bad things, but I’m glad you’re here at least. I haven’t seen you since just after Purgatory so this is kind of awesome man.”  
They skyped like a lot and Dean made him check in twice a month no matter what so he did see him, but it had been too long since he’d seen his brother in person. 

The tall guy put away his guns at last, his jaw jutting out and his eyebrows drawn in confusion as he asked “He knows about that? Who the hell is this kid Dean?”  
Stiles had almost forgotten he was there but he saw the hurt in his brother’s eyes and the way he shuttered it after a second. Dean didn’t want him here, he was angry with him, or resigned maybe. Obviously that was not acceptable, no-one was allowed hurt his brother so Stiles decided to be the sarcastic little shit Dean always claimed he was and answered the jerk. “Guess that’s what happens when you stalk people dude, you miss things. I’m Dean’s brother Stiles and this is my pack, Derek, Scott, Kira, Lydia, Isaac and our associate Chris Argent.”  
The guy just stared at him, mouth open like a fish and well, that was just rude! “Dude this is the part where you tell me your name, man didn’t your mom ever teach you manners?”  
Dean let out a whoosh of air and ran a hand over his face before moving to the couch and collapsing onto it. The tall guy raced after him, shoving Stiles out of the way and that was not cool! “What the hell is he talking about Dean? We don’t have another brother!”  
Oh crap! That was so not good. This was like epic proportions not good. That was Sam, Dean’s Sam. 

This probably could have gone a little better, or like a lot, but it was too late to start over. Unfortunately real life didn’t have a do over button. Derek and Scott bracketed him in, their hands each touching the small of his back as he made his way across the loft to the couch. Lydia had settled against the drafting table, her arms crossed and her mouth tilted in amusement. Isaac pressed himself against her and Stiles could see how much this was affecting him. He used to have a brother and this on top of everything else they’d been through was just too much. Stiles wasn’t the only one who noticed it, Chris nodded at the boy and stood beside him, his hands brushing lightly against Isaac’s shoulder. He never took his eyes off Dean and Sam though. He watched them with an intensity that Stiles found disturbing, but the two hunters seemed oblivious to all of that. “What are you even doing here Sammy?”  
“I was worried about you Dean! That’s what family does.”  
“Well as you are constantly reminding me we’re not family, we’re business partners and this doesn’t have anything to do with you.”  
“Dammit Dean he says he’s your brother, that makes him mine too and I want an explanation!”  
Stiles closed his eyes at the audible gasp that came from everyone except Scott. He already knew about Sam, had met Dean at basketball games and trips into the city. He had sat and held Stiles while he cried because he thought Dean was dead. 

Dean was hurting and Stiles hated that so he jumped into the conversation, “Look I get that you’re pissed or whatever but he was just worried about me alright? He didn’t want me to get caught up in the hunter lifestyle and after the way you freaked out over Adam well, is it any surprise he didn’t tell you? Things haven’t been great between you two for a long time now and he just didn’t want to make that any worse. And besides you weren’t even speaking to him the first time we met. You were off in Stanford trying to escape your dad.”  
“Stanford? You’ve known about him that long?”  
And shit he might have made things worse. 

Manning up Dean told him, “Dad met Claudia and he knocked her up, two months later she meets this great guy who wants her to keep the kid and they got married ok? The sheriff is a great guy, he sent us pictures and letters and fricking school report cards just to let us know Stiles was doing ok. First time I met him you had just had that bust up with dad and left for college. You wouldn’t take my calls and dad was being a bitch and I needed to be with family alright? So I drove half way across the country to meet this little kid that was a part of me and his mom and dad just welcomed me in with open arms. I’ve been keeping an eye on him ever since. I taught him stuff, how to drive, how to hustle pool and then later, after everything with Adam, I got him a tat and taught him how to hunt cause the idea that what they did to Adam could happen to Stiles terrified me.”  
For that whole speech Sam was quieter than a mouse, his balled up fists and tense shoulders made him look dangerous though, that glint in his eye almost made him seem unhinged. Breaking the tension, Stiles clapped a hand on his brothers shoulder and told him quietly “Dude I promise I’m fine. Might need to get a new tattoo though, this one only works against demonic possession.”  
It seemed to snap Dean out of it, his attention on Derek right beside Stiles, “You’re born right so this pack is ok, you don’t kill people you just act like family and want to be left alone right?”  
“Exactly.”  
“Alright then, once Stiles is cool with it and you guys are safe then that’s alright.”  
He nodded once at Derek, some silent sort of agreement Stiles couldn’t identify passed between them before grinning madly at Chris. 

He pushed himself off the couch and stuck his hand out at Argent smiling even bigger when Chris took it. “Stiles is a Winchester so you better look out for him Argent. I’ll be holding you responsible.”  
Chris sucked in a breath and in a heartbeat seemed to lose all colour, his face turning a stark unhealthy white as Dean let him go and wrapped Stiles in another hug. “Alright kiddo I’ve gotta go I was just checking in to make sure you were ok. I’ll expect a full report next week and at least two sheets from the firing range. No way are you going to run with monsters, if you can’t protect yourself, you hear me?”  
Stiles hugged him tighter and had to almost pry his fingers out of his shirt to let him go, but it was just so good seeing him again. He hated the he had to leave so soon, but one look at Sam’s face told him everything. “Come on Sammy you can yell at me in the car.”  
The tall stranger, Stiles was sticking with that cause he was so not his brother, glared at everyone, most especially Stiles before he chased after Dean. That was going to be one hell of a blowout, he hoped he wasn’t too hard on Dean, he looked like he’d been having a rough time. 

When the door scraped shut Stiles let out a deep breath and smiled shakily. Chris echoed it, his face still unhealthily white and his voice shaky as he spoke, “That was the Winchesters Stiles. How could you not tell me you were a Winchester?”  
Lydia looked at him curiously and Derek took several sharp panic filled breaths before getting himself under control. It was Lydia who asked “What’s the big deal with him being a Winchester? They didn’t seem that scary.”  
Chris barked out a laugh “The Winchesters are the top hunters in the U.S, hell the world. They’re like royalty. They’ve stopped apocalypses and killed un-killable demons. They are literally on the side of angels.”  
Stiles was a little bit proud of him for that reference, but then he remembered Cas and figured he was being literal. Derek took up where Chris left off explaining, “The Winchesters are the most terrifying hunters of them all. They never give up and they can kill anything. They are the boogeymen of the supernatural world.”  


Wow that was a little more than he expected. Sure Dean told him about his hunts and he’d even introduced him to Cas but he was just Dean, his big brother who taught him to swim and introduced him to Busty Asian Beauties when he was twelve. He didn’t want to hear about how scary he was or how intimidating just the idea of him could be. It was Scott who saved the day, grabbing everyone’s attention and refocusing it on something useful, “We need to figure out how to deal with Kate. Derek talk us through it again.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, 
> 
> So this went in a totally different direction than I had planned, so I'm sorry that it's a little all over the place, but give it a go anyway :)

Sam didn’t mean to listen. He was just walking down the hall minding his own business when Dean said his name. Sure it was behind a half closed door and he realised almost instantly that it wasn’t directed at him, but he didn’t intend to eavesdrop. He simply (unintentionally) shuffled closer and listened really really hard. Peeking through the gap in the door, he was able to make out Dean’s deep tone and Stiles’ softer ones. “Things aren’t any better with Sam?”   


“Nuh, worse actually. He kept ragging on me about you and I lost it. Started shouting at him, probably said some stuff I shouldn’t have and he was already pissed over everything else. Wants us to be partners not brothers, some bullshit like that.”   
That didn’t in any way describe the epic blowout they had after Sam met Stiles. It had gone on for days and now they were barely on speaking terms. He felt betrayed and hurt and he was completely in the right on this (as he usually is), he should have been told. But that was the thing with Dean, he kept secrets when he really shouldn’t. Shaking himself out of those thoughts, Sam listened quietly, “It’s kind of understandable, I mean the guy is clearly a dick, but he has the right to be pissed. You both do.”  
Sam was with him right up until that last point. From Dean’s begrudging reply so was he, “I guess. It’s just weird, every time I think about it I get so angry I want to punch something.”   
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s the whole Mark of Cain thing you got going on there.”  
Dean let out a startled “What?” jumping in his chair a little. At least he wasn’t the only one Dean kept secrets from. “Come on, did you honestly think you could hide that from me? That thing is dangerous Dean! I know you want to kill Metatron, but there has to be a better way!”   
Funny that sounded like something Sam would say. “Look it’s not like I planned it alright? Crowley said -” Stiles cut him off, “Yeah what’s with you two anyway? You’ve been texting him all the time and hanging out with him a lot. I thought you and Cas were solid?”  
“I’ve told you a million times Stiles, Cas and me are not a thing. He’s just a friend.”  
“Yeah right!”  
“You want me to start asking questions about Derek?”  
“What? No! We’re not, I mean he doesn’t. It’s totally not the same. I’m into him but he’s only interested in me to show Scott what a good pack member he can be. Cas is actually in love with you dumbass!”   
He could hear how flustered the kid sounded, how much it upset him to admit Derek wasn’t into him. Although from what Sam had seen, he couldn’t help but think the kid was wrong. The way Derek looked at him was way more than friendship. Dean’s response cut through his thoughts. “You’re wrong.”   
About Derek or about Cas? ‘Cause Sam had to agree with Stiles on that one, Cas was completely in love with Dean, had been for years. Irritated, probably because he’s had this conversation before, heaven knows Sam has, the kid continued, “Say I am wrong, that still doesn’t explain what you’re doing with Crowley.”   


“I’m not doing anything with him, we just talk sometimes that’s all.”   
Talk, when did they talk? What the hell was Stiles talking about? As far as Sam knew Dean barely spoke to Crowley except in an emergency. When had that changed and how had he missed it? “Sure, that’s why he’s number 2 in your speed-dial? Come on Dean, I know you better than that. Something’s going on with you and whatever it is I’d bet he’s involved.”   
How could he have missed this? Dean shrugged at the computer screen, “He’s not involved, there isn’t anything going on. We’re doing the same old thing, hunting demons and sending their ugly asses back to hell.”   
There was a long pause where Sam could hear Dean and Stiles breathing but not much else. 

Peeking through the door he caught a glimpse of Stiles’ face, a dark frown and a darkness in his eyes that he was too young to possess. Finally the kid spoke, serious and concerned, “You know I kind of freaked out when I found out what you did. I went on a research binge and dragged poor Lydia along. We didn’t find a lot, but what we did, it was bad Dean. Really bad. There are all sorts of legends and myths surrounding it and sure most of them are probably crap, but Cain was a demon.”   
There wasn’t a lot of lore out there about the mark or the blade. Most of what Sam had found was bad, and he had seen the effect it was having on Dean. He was quick tempered, violent, barely sleeping and hardly eating. But all of those things could also be attributed to the situation, they were typical Dean things, just a little more extreme than usual. Sam had added it onto his list of things to be pissed about, he hadn’t thought they might be symptoms of something else. But obviously Stiles did and Sam didn’t like where this was going. “So?” There was a hesitancy to Stiles’ response that hadn’t been there before and Sam knew why. He was scared. “So he didn’t used to be. He became a demon Dean and I think it was maybe the blade that did it.”  


Dean leaned forward towards the computer screen, tilting it a little for a better angle. “You think or you know?”   
Sam now had a perfect view of Stiles, his fingers tapping on the keyboard as he gnawed his lip before answering. “My Aramaic’s a little sketchy but Lydia’s Latin is perfect, so I’m like 98 per cent sure.”  
Holy fuck! Dean collapsed back in his chair and Sam had to fight not to go to him. This was bad, really fucking bad. In a quiet voice Dean told him “I’ve been getting sick, throwing my guts up in between hunts. Crowley said my body wasn’t designed for this, it can’t handle the power of the blade.”  
How had Dean hidden that from him? They were together nearly all the time. Stiles tilted his head down, just like Dean did when he was thinking something through. It was strange seeing that on someone not his brother. Stiles seemed to take after Dean a lot, but obviously he was better at research because neither one of them spoke Aramaic or had found a serious text on the blade. “That makes sense, you’re human so it needs you to be stronger or it can’t feed right? So it kills you but changes your body enough that you turn into a demon without the trip to Hell. You need to dump the blade Dean. It is literally killing you.”  


“I’ll talk to Crowley, see what he says.”   
What the fuck? Why would he bring Crowley into this? If the thing was trying to transform him into a demon then they needed to ditch it and find another way to beat Metatron. Crowley didn’t have anything to do with it. Stiles however seemed to agree with Dean, nodding his head sharply, “Tell him about my research, I don’t think he’ll want you to become a demon Dean. You could bring his whole kingdom crashing to his feet in a week. Plus you know he’s kinda your friend now.”   
Seriously, the kid thought Dean was going to run Hell? Dean had never been that ambitious. It made Dean laugh though, a deep rumbling sound Sam hadn’t heard in too long. “I kill demons Stiles, they’re not going to let me lead them just because I join their ranks.”  
Dean might be taking this as a joke but Stiles was deadly serious, “They will follow you because they’re terrified of you as a plain old human, as a demon with the mark of Cain you’ll be their worst nightmare. Demons follow and obey a master but you’ve never obeyed anyone. So unless Crowley plans to make you his consort, he better keep your ass out of the fire. Capiche?”   
Consort. Dean. What? No, that is not an image he ever needed in his brain. Seriously what was the kid thinking, those two could never, ugh. Sure Dean took guys home sometimes, but lately they had all been blue eyed and tanned. He was hung up on Cas not Crowley. Unless he had missed that too, after all he didn’t even know they were friends. For all he knew they could be fucking like rabbits. No focus! Dean was shouting at the laptop, his face screwed up and his mouth tight, “I’m not fucking Crowley or Cas or anyone right now Stiles!”  
Well that was a relief. “And I don’t want to rule Hell.”  


Stiles’ tone was solemn and more serious than he would have expected when he replied, “I don’t think they’ll give you a choice Dean. But talk to Crowley, he might know some way to avoid it or another way to kill Metatron. At the very least he should be able to help you get rid of the mark. If you need any research or anything just give me a call. Between me and Lydia we have like four dead languages and another six covered. Oh and eh tell Sammy he can come out now, the peeping Tom thing’s creepy.”  
That little shit smiled at him, wide and sharp and Christ he really was his brother. The screen went black before Sam could unfreeze enough to escape. A second later Dean was glaring at him through the open door, guess it was time for another epic showdown.


	3. Blood Brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Originally I planned this whole thing were Stiles and Sammy saved Dean and bitched at each other the whole time. This happened instead. Sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter. There may be a second story in this verse, but for now I'm done.
> 
>  
> 
> The song is Human Again from Beauty & The Beast https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d_prbnabl3A

Dean missed two check ins before Stiles completely freaked out and hauled his ass across the country to the bunker. Predictably it was empty. There was no sign of Dean or Sam so Stiles settled in to wait and try to figure this shit out, because something was going on and he was not in the mood for this shit. He camped out in his brother’s room and let Derek choose wherever he wanted. There were plenty of spaces to choose from. He spent most of his time freaking out or researching, sometimes he freaked out while he researched. Derek would make him take a break after that, run some Big Bang Theory on the laptop and get him out of his head for a little while. Thing was though, it was never enough. Nothing Derek did distracted him so completely that the boulder size knot in his stomach dissipated. It was so big that Ludo could probably cross the whole swamp on the thing. He also might not have been sleeping very well. 

He tried at first, but then he just sort of gave up, didn’t see the point in tossing and turning all night when he could be researching. This was something Derek disagreed with, loudly and often. He would grumble under his breath every morning when he found Stiles od’d on coffee and old books. It was getting to be a thing. Of course if it really bothered him, he could have just gone home. No one made him come. Sure Stiles might have hinted (subtly) that company would be appreciated, but he didn’t demand he come with him (it was more like pleading really, with a hint of grovelling thrown in). Point was, Derek chose to be there for some unknown reason that Stiles really didn’t have the energy to care about. Not when Dean was missing. 

Argent had people out looking for him, the hunters were all on watcher duty but so far bubpkiss! It was like he fucking vanished and if Dean had been stupid enough to get himself turned into a demon and dragged back to Hell, well then Stiles was going to be very pissed off. Sam wasn’t the only one who could bitch. Days after they first arrived and Stiles had commandeered everything even remotely usable (which considering the size of the library was relatively small) he was pulling at straws and ready to pull a Hail Mary. Most Hail Mary’s look to God for help and redemption and blah blah blah. That wasn’t gonna’ work for them, not when heaven sorta hated the Winchester’s and Dean in particular. Sure he could probably call on Cas, but if Dean was a demon, then he wouldn’t be able to do much. He was weighing the pro’s and con’s of it when Derek interrupted him quietly, “What makes you think Cas will try to kill him Stiles? I didn’t kill you when you were possessed, so why would he?”  
He nearly knocked his soda onto the thirteenth century manuscript in surprise. Fumbling with the glass he spluttered, “Dude that’s different, Dean and Cas are you know…”  
He wiggled his eyebrows a little hoping desperately that he wouldn’t have to say it, but Derek gave him that blank face he excelled at, so he continued, “Cas is in love with Dean and now he’s maybe a demon. The two situations are totally different, I mean we’re not. You know that I, but you, I mean it’s different s’all.”  
He could feel his face burning up, the redness sprawling down his neck and up his ears. He was so focused on his own embarrassment that he almost missed Derek’s hurt expression. He hid it fast, looking down at his feet and crossing his arms protectively in front of his chest. 

Terrified, Stiles took a step towards him and then another. Before long he was inside Derek’s personal space, breathing the air he exhaled. He kept his motions slow, not wanting to startle him. Derek watched everything, eyes shifting along Stiles’ body and face waiting. He almost chickened out, pulled back, convinced he was being stupid, but Derek shifted forward, just a bit, just enough. He was moving before he thought it through, pressing his lips against Derek’s, pouring everything he had into the kiss. Derek swooped him up, wrapping him in a full body hug that bordered on too tight. It was perfect though, it was everything he’d been trying to convince himself he couldn’t have. When Derek loosened his grip so they could both breathe, they hauled in huge lungful’s of air and beamed at each other. It was Derek who broke the tension, smiling as he confessed, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a really long time.” They cuddled for a while, made out a lot, but eventually that boulder in his stomach kicked his ass back into gear. It was ok though, this was kind of who they were. They researched together and fought bad guys together, if they made out now too, well that was fine by him. Eventually they came back around to their Hail Mary pass. Derek was against it, Stiles was for it. Stiles won. 

Derek had smelled the blood in the back room their first night there. It had driven Stiles into a panicked frenzy until the shelves were pulled aside and the markings on the floor revealed. Stiles used it as a baseline now, redrawing some of the necessary symbols and chanting calmly. He could feel Derek’s eyes on him at all times, his wolf worried for him. When the smell of sulphur flooded the small room Derek whimpered a little, before getting himself under control. Werewolves and demons do not mix. The man who appeared was smaller than Stiles was expecting, podgier too. But there was something about him, swagger probably that radiated outwards and made him the focus of everything. Mostly though he just looked pissed off that someone had the cheek to summon him, he was after all the King of Hell. “Well well well, if it isn’t the little bit. What can I do for you Dawnie?”  
Stiles clenched his fist twice to control himself and then decided fuck it, he was who he was. “So you really do want to fuck my brother then.”  
It came out flat and for the longest time Crowley stared at him then broke into laughter. “Oh I like you. Dean never gets my Buffy jokes, Moose doesn’t even try anymore.” Stiles smiled sharply, aware of the way Derek was hovering nearby, desperate to jump between them. “What can I say? I’m a product of my generation.”  
Crowley leered at him, smug grin lasciviousness and so over the top that Stiles almost laughed. “Oh you’re more than that. You’re the one who’s going to fix this.”  
Well at least they were on the same page. “You have a plan for how that’s going to work, ‘cause as far as I can see you’re the one who started this whole thing. It’s only fair you finish it.”  
Crowley traced the path of the spell, walking it carefully with his eyes flickering back to Derek once then dismissing him. “He’s sleeping. I didn’t fancy letting him wake up with all that power. Things have been rather difficult as of late, politically speaking. There was a coup, not very successful, but it gives people ideas, tests their loyalty. I can’t have Dean running around right now, ergo sleeping. There’s maybe a week left before he wakes up, so I’ve been shoring up what I can and preparing for the worst. He told me about you, what you said to him about me and you’re right. I can’t afford for this to happen right now. However should it happen again, at a more opportune moment, well then Dean and I will remain BFF’s, understand little bit?”  


Thank his fucking stars for a failed revolution. Stiles had been expecting this, but he still let out a relieved breath when Crowley confirmed it, he would help them. Sure it was a one time thing and he would more than likely try to turn Dean into a demon at some later stage, but for now he would help save his brother. If Derek hadn’t been scowling at them he would have hugged the prick! Instead he beamed brightly and replied, “Sounds good I’ve got a spell I think might work. It needs your blood and a shit ton of power but we can manage that. All I need is Dean here tomorrow before dawn. He has to be reborn to the light.”  
The demon stared at him, eyes slitted and far too intense for Stiles’ liking, “That’s a very old spell, I can’t say I’m not surprised. Sammy’s been searching for near on a month now and he hasn’t found anything like it. How did you find it?”  
Stiles didn’t like the way he was staring at him and evidently neither did Derek. Unnerved he told him an abbreviated truth, “I’ve been keeping an eye out ever since I saw the mark. Figured it might do in a pinch.”  
There were other ways to convert a demon into what it was before, but most of them were extremely dangerous. This was one of the oldest spells Stiles had found and probably the most dangerous if your brother wasn’t BFF’s with the King of Hell. It wasn’t what Stiles had originally planned on, or even hoped for. He had wanted to use a slightly newer spell. It was less agonizing for the demon and less risky for the caster, but he couldn’t get his hands on everything he needed in time. Crowley was still smiling at him, “Very well, I’ll have him here tomorrow first thing on one condition.”  
No. There was no way he was dealing with that shit, it was Crowley’s fault this had happened, he wasn’t going to let him dictate terms! He was ready to protest when Crowley continued loudly (to be heard over Derek’s growls) “I want to be here when he wakes up and you tell him what you did. I want to watch him tear you apart.”  
Yeah that was the other reason he hadn’t wanted to use this spell, his brother was going to kill him! Crowley disappeared but his mocking laugh remained, echoing off the concrete walls. At least they had a plan now. 

He didn’t bother sleeping, there wasn’t much point. Instead Derek made him cup after cup of coffee while he prepared everything he needed for the ritual. With dawn approaching Derek nudged him out of the chair and into the back room, one arm wrapped carefully around his torso. He was not on board with this plan, but after arguing for hours they had come to an agreement. Stiles would do the spell, Derek would watch and the next time Derek did something so utterly stupid, he could call in this Hail Mary pass and Stiles would let it slide. At least in theory. If Derek ever did anything this stupid then Stiles was tying him to a tree so he could beat him upside the head with a frying pan! Light was starting to peek through the windows and trace along the ground when Crowley appeared, Dean slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. When he dropped him on the ground Stiles couldn’t help but wince. Dean would be black and blue all over from that, but Crowley shrugged it off. When the first ray of light hit the room Stiles drew out a small silver dagger his brother had given him years ago. He set it against his own wrist, cutting sharply and hissing at the pain. Once the blood was flowing freely, he cast the spell, weaving his magic into it and it pour out of him with the red droplets. Crowley offered his wrist to him, bare of adornments and paler than Stiles expected. He cut slowly echoing the words of the spell, increasing the power threefold. Once the blade was drenched in their blood he settled on the floor beside his brother. He fought not to close his eyes, not to look away or think about this going wrong. Magic was about belief, he had to believe. On the final word he stabbed the knife into Dean’s heart, shoving the blade through his ribcage and into the pulpy flesh and muscle. 

Slowly he slid the blade out until only the tip remained and he watched. Drop after gleaming drop dripped into Dean’s open chest. His blood and the demon’s. When the skin started to knit around the blade he pulled it up, careful to keep the tip touching Dean’s flesh. When the wound was totally healed Stiles sagged back onto the ground exhausted and waited. Derek was wrapped around him in seconds, giving him the support he needed not to pass out. Crowley was pasty and shaking, sweat glistening on his face, his hands twitching. The spell had drained them both and they still didn’t know if it had worked. Moments later Dean’s body started to convulse, his hips shaking and his torso flailing wildly, and then he screamed. It was like listening to Lydia, deafening and terrifying. More so because this was his brother and he was in pain, pain Stiles had deliberately caused. He shoved his hands over his ears and let himself fall apart, sobbing and crying in Derek’s arms. Derek’s supernatural hearing must have made it unbearable, but he stayed put, letting Stiles latch onto him for comfort. Dean screamed for hours, convulsing and writhing on the floor. At some point Crowley placed his black coat under Dean’s head, concerned he might damage himself. 

At exactly 6.05 as the sun set Dean stopped. For a heartbeat Stiles thought he stopped breathing too. He felt his chest tighten in panic before Dean took a full breath and moaned in pain. His eyes flashed open and his hands stretched out for a weapon before he recognized his surroundings. “Son of a bitch!”  
Stiles couldn’t help but laugh. It bubbled out of him and he was damn near hysterical with it. Dean eased himself up, rubbing his aching muscles and wiping the congealed blood off his chest, “What the hell happened and what are you doing here Stiles?”  
He wasn’t capable of answering, too caught up in relearning how to breathe, so Crowley answered instead. “You became a demon Dean when Metatron killed you. Little bit here brought you back. With a little help of course.” Dean’s eyes flashed between Stiles and Crowley, his brow creasing in confusion and anger, “What the fuck does that mean?”  
Crowley smiled brightly and waved it off like what they’d done was nothing, “We’re blood brothers now, he and I. Where I come from that means something.”  
It meant repercussions, serious ones probably, but Stiles would figure it out. He had his brother back now so they would deal with it together. Dean didn’t see it quite that way, but he was alive and human again so Stiles counted that as a win. Everything else would come later, right now all he wanted to do was get that stupid song out of his head and hug his brother. So he did.


End file.
